


Midnight Snack

by Sol_Morales707



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Anal Sex, Cumshot, Dream Sex, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, Frottage, Incest, Intergluteal Sex, M/M, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Non-Penetrative Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sibling Incest, Sleep Groping, Sleep Sex, Somnophilia, Spit As Lube, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:09:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27142249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sol_Morales707/pseuds/Sol_Morales707
Summary: Famished in the middle of the night, Beelzebub feasts on whatever was closest.(Read tags.)
Relationships: Beelzebub/Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Kudos: 168





	Midnight Snack

**Author's Note:**

> More Obey Me because I'm still addicted 🥴 specially to these two, one a little more than the other (Belphie) but I love them both so much 🥺
> 
> Anyways, **READ TAGS!** Highly NSFW/Problematic/Fucked Up/Etc. Don't like what you see, don't read. You've been warned 💜
> 
> Now enjoy 💋

A deep rumble coming from the pits of the deepest abyss shakes the ground and thumps into Beelzebub’s head through his ears, echoing and clattering his bones. He clutches at his empty stomach and feels it vibrating under his palm.

_I’m so hungry._

There’s nothing to eat around him, but that doesn’t stop the Avatar of Gluttony from treading deeper into the forest, stomach rumbling louder and louder with every step. Eventually, he catches a whiff of something really sweet and chases it, drool dripping from the corners of his lips as he runs after the smell until he finds it in no time, as if it was there the whole time.

Trapped by his own mind in a hunger-induced dream, Beelzebub’s body leaves his bed. Nothing sweet pervades the room, and there is nothing edible nearby. Dinner was unsatisfying that evening and Beelzebub had no choice but to go to bed with an empty stomach—despite having eaten everything on the table.

In his mind, however, there’s something in front of him that tempts him; a long buffet loaded with dishes of exotic sweets, plates with all types of sushi, and bucketfuls of quetzalcoatl brains. 

Beelzebub salivates and rushes over.

In reality, he shambles to Belphegor’s bed. His twin brother sleeps soundly, snoring softly into his stippled pillow squashed between his arms, oblivious of the ravenous beast that looms above him. He climbs the bed, knees sinking at each side of Belphegor’s feet as he leans down to chow down a brightly colored tart—a mirage of Belphegor’s face. 

Slick lips kiss his round cheeks and close to suck the sugary syrup into his mouth, leaving behind purple spots that contrast from Belphegor’s pearly skin. Then Beelzebub licks the frosting in wide laps and lets it melt on his tongue before licking again, inadvertently moving up from Belphegor’s cheek to his ear. He dips his tongue into the small crevice, licks down the flabby shell, and bites the pliant meat of his earlobe. Soft threads of hair tickle his face. Beelzebub takes a strand between his fingers and brings it to his nose, taking a long whiff of his twin brother’s crisp smell before sticking it into his mouth too—depicted as an untwisted cinnamon roll in his dream. 

Beelzebub explores every inch and corner of the table, large hands sneaking inside Belphegor’s long-sleeved shirt to drag his palms up and down the slight curve of his waist. The smooth texture of his skin on Beelzebub’s rough hands is a tantalizing touch that fuels his cravings and lures his mouth to the sleeping body’s belly. Teeth nip and suck a path up, starting from the navel and following lean lines of muscles with his tongue to Belphegor’s chest, pushing his shirt up and leaving bite marks as he goes until he finds a nipple. 

Beelzebub opens wide and crams the entire pec into his mouth, tongue rolling out to flick and nick at the nub before locking his lips around it to suck hard, eager to taste it—sweet, like the assortment of cupcakes on the table.

The small room between Belphegor’s eyebrows wrinkles as he stirs and moans softly. His hand blindly searches for the source disrupting his sleep and bumps into Beelzebub’s head, but the famished demon doesn’t budge, completely unaware of his twin’s efforts as he continues to squeeze and mouth Belphegor’s chest.

But it’s not enough. The more he stuffs his face, the hungrier he grows.

Growling like a beast, Beelzebub abandons Belphegor’s chest, leaving a cord of drool behind that connects his lips to the sleeping boy’s pert nipple, and straightens up to spin his body around face-first on the pillow. Then he crawls back a smidgen and peels off the wrapping on a couple of chocolate-stuffed sweet buns—nothing other than Belphegor’s pants and asscheeks respectively.

Beelzebub wedges both thumbs into the slit and splits his ass apart, laying bare the pink dimple burrowed in between. The Avatar of Gluttony licks his lips and drags his tongue all over the taint. The moment he does, Belphegor shifts and tries to roll away, searching for a comfortable position in his sleep. Irritated, Beelzebub seizes his younger brother’s hips to keep him rock-still as he continues to lick him up, nails drilling into his milky skin. Belphegor whines and throws an arm back to push whatever upsets his sleep away, but with Beelzebub’s head bowed, he only fumbles empty space. 

“So tasty…” Beelzebub warbles with his mouth busy, biting the supple flesh of Belphegor’s ass before hollowing his cheeks and molding a trail of deep-purple blotches that lead back to the middle, where he forces his tongue inside the tight crease.

At this, Belphegor jerks awake.

“Beel…,” He groans as his body shrivels, toes curling and arms wringing around his pillow as pulses of heat strike him. Thick sweat drops form at the crown of his head and plop on his pillow, soaking through the fabric, “Not again…”

But of course, his pleas reach deaf ears. When Beelzebub gets like this, everything and everyone around him disappears from his consciousness. It’s just him and his food and no one can stop him—nobody dares to in the first place, except Lucifer and Belphegor himself.

“... come on, Beel, stop…,” Belphegor tries to push and kick his brother off, but his limbs fail him, weighted by the dregs of sleep and ensnared by the kiss of pleasure, “... Beel…”

So he gives up and yields to the demon. 

Belphegor feels his large tongue curling and wriggling inside of him, eating as much of him out as he could. He rubs the tip of his tongue against the pulpy walls and pulls out, opening wide to kiss his ring before sucking him dry. Then he thrusts back inside and repeats. 

Belphegor gasps into his pillow and tightens his arms around it while his twin brother gleefully eats him out for hours into the night. His arms and legs tremble weakly as the hot pulses hit him faster and harder, making him spill his junk all over his own bed several times now, and everytime he does, his control over his body snips away. He couldn’t even think straight anymore, thoughts scattered and jumbled.

Suddenly, Beel’s mouth leaves his hind with a squelch and Belphegor whimpers pathetically. Then he yelps and bites his sodden pillow when Beelzebub’s hands sojourn to his ass in a vice-like grip. 

“Beel… that hurts—”

But nothing gets through to him. Beelzebub spreads him as far as he could and it burns his skin, reaping from his lips a choked cry that scratches his throat. The sound of hurried rustling sends shivers scattering through his body, bristling every hair on his skin as he looks over his shoulder. At some point, Beel transformed into his demon form, wings and horns sprouting from his body. 

Heart punching his chest, Belphegor braces himself as his older brother wedges his large mast between his cheeks, snugged and tight, and rolls his hips. Sharp hip-bones bash his rear sharply, slaps bouncing the walls in tandem with Beelzebub’s guttural grunts and Belphegor’s pants. Beel’s hard fingers on the seventh demon’s skin form divots as he clenches for more friction and rocks his hips faster and faster until, after a number of thrusts, Belphegor feels something hot and viscous splatter all over his back—like candle wax. 

The Catnapping Seventh-Born briefly wonders if it’s over, if his brother finally woke up, when Beelzebub shoves himself back in between and deeper inside until the crown of his cock kisses his dripping hole.

“Wait—!”

Belphegor cries out and his body bends upwards, fingers nearly ripping the sheets of his bed and tears bursting from his eyes as he’s brutally penetrated to the hilt in only a few thrusts. The pain spreads like wildfire, paralyzing him on the spot until it’s replaced by a burning pleasure minutes later. He feels Beelzebub’s weight on his body, pinning and trapping him with no way or chances to escape as the demon leans down and bites his neck, babbling on and on about “how tasty” he is while he pounds him into the mattress. Belphegor’s sight blurs and whitens, his ear fill with so much cotton he can’t hear the indecencies from his own mouth, and his mind is eclipsed by an euphoric mist—completely empty and light, as if under the effects of drugs. 

Again, he loses count of how many times he stained his own bed, and the notion of time itself until the weight on his body is lifted. With a weak groan, Belphegor rolls over his side and squints in the dark to see his twin brother back on his bed. 

“Beel…?” He calls, voice thoroughly cracked, but a snore is the only response he gets.

Exhaustion tugs on the last strings of his conscience. He rolls back around and lets the fatigue pull him under. Sleep comes and goes. Once, Belphegor thought it was a dream, but the stickiness on his body, the sensation of being full, the sheer aching of his joints, and the throbbing on his rear... told a different story.

Next morning, he’s woken up by his brother. Dressed from head to toe and smiling from ear to ear. 

“Belphie? Classes are about to start.”

Belphegor bemoans, makes a face, and pulls his sheets up over his head, “Pass.”

“But Lucifer—”

“Just… tell him I’m not feeling good.”

The smile on Beelzebub’s face drops completely, Belphegor can easily tell from the tone of his voice, “Belphie… what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” Belphegor bites his lips inside his little cocoon, “Tired, that’s all. Don’t worry about me.”

“Didn’t catch a good sleep?”

Even though he’s alone in his burrow, Belphegor averts his gaze from Beel’s silhouette, “... yeah.”

“I’ll take notes for you.”

“Thanks.”

The room sinks into silence save for the Beel’s heavy footsteps walking to the door. Suddenly, he stops. 

“Was it… because of me?”

Belphegor’s chest tightens, “What do you mean?”

“I had a really good dream,” Beelzebub continues, “Maybe that’s why—”

“You really believe _everything_ that Levi says? You can’t just steal my dreams,” Belphegor scoffs, but his voice comes out wobbly and flaky, “I told you I—I’m fine.” 

Clearly, Beelzebub doesn’t bite it.

Belphegor’s a good liar, except when it’s aimed at his twin brother.

“Besides,” Belphegor comes out of his hiding hole, hair a pointed mess and eyes drooped, but still, he brings a heavy smile to his face, “Who said I didn’t have a good dream? I just couldn’t sleep trying to keep it going.”

“I get that,” That line earns him the bud of a smile from Beel, “What was it about?”

Belphegor slumps back on his bed, “Hey, don’t you have class right now?”

“Oh, right,” Beelzebub opens the door, “I’ll come check on you and bring you your notes.” And leaves.

Alone, Belphegor forces himself out of bed and drags his feet to the bathroom, where he washes away the sweat and gunk on his body, thinking:

_Yeah, it was just a good dream._


End file.
